


After all I've bled for you

by aeki



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Face Punching, Multi, Nonverbal Inquisitor, Slow Burn, Trans Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeki/pseuds/aeki
Summary: 'This is an easy in and out job. I expect you should only be gone for a few days, mostly travel.'If only that were true, hahren.





	After all I've bled for you

**Author's Note:**

> all signs i describe are using asl because that's what i know  
> i dont give out the inquisitors name mostly because he wouldn't tell any of the characters at this point in time, but it's Mircea.  
> also solas is a little bit creepy in his interactions with mircea's unconscious body, nothing malicious or anything, he just doesn't remember the concept of #personalspace  
> i also dont describe everything going on bc i feel like that would be boring. just assume this is 100% completion. i am not writing about the gang herding a druffalo or closing every single rift in the hinterlands  
> there's a lot of headcanons and just hitting at canon to make it make me feel better about life  
> i'll be changing tags by chapter for when a character shows up because uh that makes sense, but the pairings im just going to go ahead and throw out there  
> the only thing i wont tag are the minor pairings bc im not going to clickbait someone  
> songs listened to on repeat while writing: jaymes young- come back for me and flora cash - you're somebody else  
> edit: fixed the format, and changed how some of the parts went.

 

 

**The first sign of trouble is that hole in the sky.**

 

No one looks up if they don’t have to. If they do, they make sure not to look towards it. That disgusting green slash in the sky, pumping demons into their world, and had taken their Divine from them.

Kids have taken to throwing rocks at the sky, trying to see if any of them could hit it, and drive it away. None of them ever do, but the adults let them keep trying. Better throwing rocks at the sky then thinking about why it had appeared there.

 

 

**The second sign of trouble is that Leliana has no idea who the elf is. No one does.**

 

 

Leliana is pouring over every correspondence relating to the Conclave and there’s nothing. Nothing!

“I don’t understand. None of my agents know of him, there’s no mention of him anywhere! Not even a description of him! It’s almost like the explosion created him.” Leliana throws another letter to the side and turns to look at an elven woman.

“I’m sorry Sister Nightingale, that’s the last letter we’ve been able to find.” The elven woman is slender, average height, and brown slicked back hair.

“It appears we will have to wait for him to tell us who he is. I don’t like this, Runner. Check for Dalish in the area and see what they think of him.”  
“Yes, Sister Nightingale.”

 

 

**The third sign of trouble is that mark on the elf’s hand.**

 

 

Adan stares at the unconscious elf, especially at the mark on his hand.

“It’s killing him.” A bald elven mage enters the cell, carrying a small box.  
Adan grunts and takes his place to the left of the elf, while the mage sits to the right.

“Have you figured out anyway to ease his pain?” The mage runs glowing hands through the prisoner’s hair. Some sort of water spell. The mage didn’t want the elf to wake up with greasy hair, which was a nice thing of him to do, Adan supposes.

“No.” Adan pulls a poultice out from his pouch.

“Ah. Well then, you can leave if you desire to do so. I can apply the poultice.” The baldie doesn’t even look at Adan. No reason to, he thinks Adan will bend over, and let him take his patient from him right under his nose.

“If you ever try to suggest such a thing again, I’ll blow off the rest of your hair.” Adan grumbles, as he rubs the poultice onto the elf’s hand.  
The mage grins and continues his hair washing spell. Annoying bastard expected that response. Adan makes a note to slip an itching potion into the mage’s food tonight.

 

 

 **The fourth sign is another elf showing up, and claiming to know a great deal about the Fade.**  
He wishes to study the prisoner’s hand and see what he can learn from it. Hopefully enough to figure out how to close the Breach. And, at least she knows this elf’s name, Solas.

 

Solas has been staring at the other elf for at least three hours. It’s weird, staring at someone’s unconscious body, trying to figure out who they are. He had tried searching through the Fade for the prisoner, but found he couldn’t find them. No hint of them.  
Solas lets out a sigh, as he runs his hand through the elf’s long hair.

“If you ever wake, I wonder what you would be like. Will you be like him?” Solas runs a finger down the vine vallaslin on the elf’s face. “Burning of anger and searching for vengeance against nothing?”  
His finger leaves the prisoner’s face, and he picks up their left hand.

“If only I could relieve you of this burden. Take it back and let you go. But to remove it would alert the Seeker.” Solas grips the hand, tightly, before laying it back down on the elf’s chest.

 

**The fifth sign are the people yelling for the elf’s death.**

 

There is a woman in the Chantry who shouldn’t be in there. She is walking around, like a lost child, but Cassandra has seen the slight glint of a knife hiding in her boot.  
Cassandra’s sure she knows who that knife is for. And, for a split second, she thinks about letting the woman slip through her fingers, may even open the door for her.  
She changes her mind, and escorts the woman out as quick as she can.

 

**The sixth sign is the elf waking up and not saying a word to them.**

 

He is reluctant, and he makes no sound. One would assume that perhaps he was asleep with his eyes open, if it were not for that fact that he follows their every move.  
It’s odd, how he watches her. He doesn’t watch her like other people have. There is no fear in his eyes, no desperation, no sadness. There is only a strange sense of apathy, as if he doesn’t care what she does to him, which is preposterous.

 

 **And the seventh sign is that he doesn’t even blink when she pulls a sword out to strike him down.  
**No, instead he glares at her, as if taunting her to do it. If not for Leliana, she would.

 

“Cassandra, we have no time for this. Take him to the forward camp, I’ll meet you there.” Leliana doesn’t take no for an answer, as she leaves the dungeons as quick as she can.

No time to waste then.  
Cassandra graps the elf’s manacles and pulls him straight up, onto his feet. His black hair, almost waist length, flutters around him as he looks up at Cassandra, and glares at her.  
The green in his monolid eyes seem to be the same green as the mark and the Breach. After it closes, Cassandra hopes she never has to see that shade of green ever again.

 

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”  
The elf rubs his wrists once he’s free, but says nothing. He just stares at her, waiting for her to move.

“Do you have a name?” She doesn’t like referring to him as elf in her head. Makes her feel...bad.  
He, once again, doesn’t answer her. And for a split second, she sees him look at the snow.

“If you can write it in the snow, then do so.”  
He is slow to react, but he does take his foot, and writes two simple letters in the snow.  
‘ _No_ ’.  
Cassandra stares at the word for a second before letting out a sigh.

“Fine.” She turns and heads off for the second set of gates.

 

Vines enshroud Cassandra, and she fears she has performed a rookie mistake. She assumed No was not a mage, and now he will strangle her to death with his strange Dalish magic. Foolish.

Yet, after only a second, Cassandra realizes she feels no pain. Her wounds are healing and the vines constrict the shade, causing it to be immobile.  
She expects her blade to be unable to take down the shade, due to the thick vines, but she brings it down anyways.  
And the vines move out of the way of her sword, allowing her to finish off the shade.

Cassandra turns and runs at the mage, her sword extended, and pointing at him.  
He once again, doesn’t even flinch, instead adjusting his weight between his feet, and clinging to the staff.

And the staff, it’s an ugly thing, standing over nine feet, obviously out-shadowing the small elf. It looks more branch-like than staff-like. It doesn’t even have a blade, just a few thorns on the top.

“Put down the weapon.” She says, glaring at No. How dare he...protect himself and her. Cassandra furrows her eyebrows and sheaths her sword.

“No. No, you helped me. You could’ve killed be just a few minutes ago, you could’ve killed me now. But you didn’t. You’re just protecting yourself. Keep the staff.” Cassandra nods, before turning away from No.

 

She glances at No once they’re walking at the same rate, the small man having to take wider steps than his usual gait to walk to her side. And he is quite small. Barely even reaching her shoulders in height. She could pick up No and throw him a good distance without even using that much strength. In fact, she’s tempted to do so.

 

Solas had made a miscalculation. He should’ve realized, but he didn’t want to admit it, wanted to feel some of his old power, and now he laid in the snow, clutching at his jaw.  
Above him, the elf stares down at him, shoulders tense, and fists clench.  
It’s silent. Uncomfortably silent. It hasn’t been this silent since the sky was breached.

“Holy shit.” Varric, appropriately, is the one to break the silence.

It’s all the elf needs to hear, as all the tension that was in him releases, and his stare at Solas morphs into one of regret. A fist is pulled to his chest, and he rotates it.  
He holds his other hand out to Solas, while his other continues to rotate on his chest.  
Solas accepts, and he pulls him up easily. A flash of blue, and the elf’s hand was near Solas’ face, healing where he had hit him.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct. I...am sorry for grabbing you like that. I had no intention to hurt you.” Just to see if he could feel the thrum of magic from that mark.

The elf nods, and rotates his fist on his chest.

“Why...do you keep doing that?” Solas asks, staring at the fist that had most likely fractured his jaw.

“It’s trade sign for sorry.” Varric answers, walking over to the two. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” As Varric gives out his line, he signs it as well, making sure to finger-spell his name.

After a pause, Varric taps his ear two times, and then points at the elf.

The elf pulls up his fist and nods it, making sure to nods his own head as well.

“Alright. Do you have a name?” Varric points two fingers at the elf and taps two more fingers on top of them.

“He won’t tell you.” Cassandra sneers, coming towards them.  
However, her sneer disappears when she sees the elf making a pinching movement near his mouth.

“Bird?” Varric asks, his brows furrowing.  
Bird shakes his head, index and middle finger coming towards his thumb.

“Best we’re going to get, huh?”  
Bird nods and nods his fist as well.

They’re all silent for a bit, before Bird begins to move towards the stairs. He doesn’t wait for any of them as he jumps over the fallen column and walks off, heading towards the frozen lake.

 

Leliana. He knows her, but she doesn’t know him. Doesn’t surprise him a bit, to be honest.

He fiddles his fingers when they blame _him_ for all this shit. Like he could open a hole in the sky that big. But oh well, humans have always blamed the elves for anything wrong that happens.  
Besides, it won’t be long til he can return to Clan Lavellan. They can blame him, accuse him, threaten to send him to trial, or whatever, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Once he helps them close the Rift, he’ll go to the Clan. Pour himself some aqua magus, and finish training Deshanna.  
Oh, poor Deshanna. When they gave him his mission to oversee the Conclave, she begged him not to go. He remembers her tears so vividly.

When he first met the young Keeper, he almost throttled someone. She didn’t even have her vallaslin yet.  
But, he had to go. Nava had sent the orders directly. And, to go against Nava’s orders, was to go against the order of his Mother, the one who had saved him, who had pulled him out of that tree, and trained him til he cried his eyes out. And they were simple orders.  
_‘This is an easy in and out job. I expect you should only be gone for a few days, mostly travel._  
 _Oversee the Conclave. Record everything that happens. Don’t give your name to anyone. In and out, and home before Deshanna’s vallaslin ritual._  
 _I can only trust you to do this task, da’len.’_

The job is no longer an easy in and out, but it’s still an in and out. He’ll get it done. He has to. Deshanna’s vallaslin ritual is in one moon.


End file.
